Exposed in Darkness

by Heather Sunseri

  I chuckled, and she smiled. It was a beautiful thing, her smile. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but… “Has this source—this CHS—ever tried to harm you?” I nodded toward her arm.

  “No. And I’m not sure he meant to hurt me in the parking garage. I think he was just startled by you and shoved me harder than he meant to.”

  I winced. I didn’t like thinking that I’d been the reason she’d gotten hurt that night—the reason she was less than a hundred percent while working a case.

  Her phone rang. She answered quickly, most likely cutting off any chance that this conversation would continue. “Agent Fairfax… Okay, thanks.” She stood and slid her phone in her pocket. “Showtime.”

  “Wait.” I stood and grabbed her shoulders. “Before you go, I have to know.”

  Her face turned serious. “What?”

  “Where in this amazing dress have you hidden your firearm?”

  Her lips quirked up. “If you’re patient, I just might show you later.”

  “Are you flirting with me, Agent Fairfax?”

  Her expression faltered, then recovered. It was terrifying to see conflicting emotions play across her face. She reached a hand to my cheek. “Be careful tonight.”

  With most of her hair intricately pinned up in the sexiest of styles, I took advantage and slipped one hand to the back of her neck. My other hand went around her waist to her back. That was when I felt her firearm.

  She smiled up at me. “Looks like you discovered my secret.”

  I brought her closer until there was nothing between us except the layers of our clothes. I leaned down, and before she could protest, I pressed my lips to hers, demanding that she answer with the desire I knew was simmering behind the barrier she’d carefully constructed to keep me out.

  The muscles in her back slowly relaxed in my hand, and when her arms circled around my back, one of them gripping the fabric of my jacket, I knew I had broken down a part of the wall between us.

  Both of our phones began buzzing at once, and I leaned my forehead against hers. “Watch your back, okay?”

  “Always.”

  When she reached her hand into her pocket, I thought for sure she was going to answer the phone again, but instead she pulled out a tube of lipstick and proceeded to swipe it across her lips before sliding it back inside her pocket.

  I let out a laugh. “What I would give to know what else you’re hiding in those layers of fabric.”

  And I truly hoped I would find out eventually.

  Chapter 34

  “Mike, talk to me,” I said as soon as I turned on my mic and exited through Declan’s side entrance.

  Declan was behind me. He grabbed me and placed a kiss on my cheek. “Be careful.” Then he took off in the direction of the main tent, where guests were starting to arrive. I headed straight for the security tent.

  “The governor is on his way,” Mike said.

  “What? He’s early.”

  “That’s what I said. But it doesn’t change anything. Our trio of terrorists just arrived. We watch for them to poison the glasses, and we take them down. All agents nearby have gloves and masks so they don’t come into contact with the tacin. The prep area is well away from the guests, so we’ll have no problem keeping them cordoned off from the poison. Remember, let the agents handle the chemical. They know what they’re doing.”

  As soon as I ducked into the tent, Ty gestured at one of the monitors. “We’ve got them on screen. All three of them.”

  I moved swiftly to stand directly behind Carlos and Ty. Sure enough, there were Jenna, Ben, and Danny Ramsey. They were arranging the glasses on tables. “What are they doing?” I asked.

  “It would appear exactly what they were told to do,” Carlos said with an edge to his voice.

  “They’re not wearing gloves or masks or anything. They’re not poisoning the glasses.”

  An agent on the other side of Ty announced, “The governor’s helicopter is approaching from the west.”

  “Why is he arriving so early?” I muttered mostly to myself. I touched my mic. “Mike, have the agents searched Jenna’s and Ben’s home yet? Or Danny’s?” My mind was racing through a million thoughts. This wasn’t going like I had thought it would.

  “The warrants were issued late this afternoon,” he answered. “As soon as the targets left to come here, the agents moved in on all three homes. They’ll move in on the Cellar as well as soon as I give the word. I didn’t want to spook anyone.”

  I continued to watch the monitor. “Something’s not right,” I said softly.

  Ty looked up at me. He’d known me long enough to know to listen to my instincts. “What are you thinking, boss?”

  “I don’t know. Keep watching. Tell me if anything changes.” I turned and left the tent.

  The main tent was now buzzing with people. Partygoers were ordering drinks, greeting friends, and walking around the tables of silent auction items. I had almost forgotten this thing was a fundraiser. Women were dressed in floor-length, glamorous ball gowns; men in tuxedos. Everyone attending the gala tonight had spent a pretty penny. From the price of admission, to the formal attire, to the money spent on silent and live auction items, it all added up.

  Beyond the tables set for dinner, I saw Declan speaking with Aidan. They were probably discussing last-minute race planning for On Liam’s Watch.

  “Well, well, well. We meet again.” I spun around to find Fritz Hahn walking toward me in a tuxedo.

  “Dr. Hahn. I didn’t realize you would be here.”

  He grabbed my left hand, then lifted it to his mouth and touched his lips to my knuckles before letting it go. “Well, since the FBI went to all that trouble to bring me to Kentucky, I thought I might as well stick around and see what this Bluegrass Derby thing is all about.” He turned and eyed the crowd. “I must say, this is quite the spectacle.”

  I couldn’t disagree, but since he’d brought it up… “You have something against rich people?”

  “Who, me?” He flashed a playful grin. “Of course not. Rich people fund my grants, pay my salary, and sometimes do stupid things that make life more interesting.”

  “Stupid things?”

  “Like pay seven hundred and fifty thousand buckaroos for a yearling in hopes that he’ll some day win a two-minute horse race. It’s good entertainment for people like me.”

  I lifted a brow.

  “Declan paid three quarters of a million for that four-legged animal running tomorrow,” he said, answering my unspoken question.

  I’d had no idea. I hadn’t cared enough to look it up. But it also didn’t surprise me. On Liam’s Watch had excellent pedigree.

  “They’re starting to fill the glasses,” Ty said in my ear.

  I touched the tiny mic up by my shoulder. “What do you mean? With what?”

  “With ice and bourbon,” he said a little too loudly, making me wince slightly. “What do you think they’re filling them with?”

  Fritz’s brows knitted together, watching me as I listened intently to Ty, though he couldn’t hear what was being said.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Could they have already planted the poison?”

  “No one can see how.”

  I stared at Fritz, my mind processing possibilities. “Let them continue filling the glasses, but don’t let them leave the tent. I’ve got Fritz Hahn here with me. I think he can help.”

  I turned and searched the crowd. Mike was standing near the back of the tent looking at me. He’d been listening to Ty’s and my conversation.

  “Do you mind helping us out one more time?” I asked Fritz.

  “Of course not. I live to help the feds.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me.

  When we reached Mike, he turned and led the way to the tent where the bourbon drinks were being prepared. I entered the tent alone, leaving Mike and Fritz just outside.

  Jenna, Ben, and Danny looked up, stopping what they were doing.

  “Don’t mind me,” I
said. “I just need to borrow one of the glasses. I’ll bring it right back.” I grabbed an empty glass and exited the tent.

  I spoke to Fritz in a low voice so as not to be overheard by the three inside. “You said the tacin was colorless,” I said. “But that it had a distinct scent of licorice.”

  “That’s right,” Fritz answered.

  “Brooke, you’re not wearing gloves,” Mike said when he saw me handling the glass.

  I thrust the glass toward Fritz. “Does this smell like it’s been contaminated with tacin?”

  Fritz leaned in and took a whiff. He met my stare. “I smell dishwashing liquid. That’s all.”

  I lifted the glass to my own face and inhaled. “He’s right.”

  Mike turned and punched the air. “Damn it!” he said in a loud whisper.

  But a horrible feeling was growing in my gut. “Someone tipped them off. They’ve put the chemical somewhere else.” I drilled fingers into my forehead.

  “Or maybe they’re waiting until the Derby tomorrow?” Mike suggested.

  “What if they’re distributing the poison in another way? That’s not how I would have done it,” Fritz said.

  Mike’s hand lifted and rested on his firearm beneath his jacket. “Meaning?”

  I shot Mike a look of warning. “Go on, Fritz. How would you do it?”

  “Adding it to food or drink would be too difficult unless you were the caterer or the bartender, and even then, you’d only be able to reach the food and drink you came into contact with.”

  “That’s why adding it to the glasses well before the alcohol ever touched them was ingenious.”

  “Yes, but… This is just hypothetical, right? We are in agreement that I had nothing to do with getting my hands on military-grade tacin?”

  I motioned impatiently for him to answer the question. “Yes, we’re sure you had nothing to do with any of this. How would you poison a room full of people if not by inserting the chemical in their drinks or food?”

  “Well, tacin was a pesticide originally, right?” After I nodded, he continued. “It was meant to be sprayed as a mist over crops. The tiny droplets of moisture would land on the leaves of crops, drying almost instantly, and would then kill any living thing that tried to eat away at the plant.

  “So if it were me, I would find a way to release the chemical into the air. Not in gas form, but in a very light mist, difficult to detect. The killer would be guaranteed to reach every single person out there.”

  Mike and I just stared at him, processing the frightening prospect. I wanted to argue against it, tell him that his idea was impossible. But I turned to Mike, my eyes wide. “They found a way to do exactly that.”

  “What are you talking about? How?” Mike asked.

  “The fog machines set up for the aerial silk artists. They’re scheduled to perform after the live auction. If the poison is in the machine, it will be released into the air exactly the way Fritz is describing.”

  “Where are you taking us?” Danny asked.

  Mike and I, with the help of several FBI agents, had detained our trio of terrorists and were now escorting them around the outside of the large tent, keeping away from guests who might see or overhear us. Jenna remained perfectly quiet and reserved, but the two men muttered every curse word they could think of and threatened to sue every last agent present for holding them without cause.

  “You can’t force us to stay,” Danny said. “We don’t have to talk to you.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “You don’t have to talk to us. That is your right. However, my friends here with the guns can force you to stay.”

  “This is bullshit. We haven’t done anything,” Ben said.

  Mike glanced over his shoulder at them. “ Shut up and keep moving. You’re in deep enough shit as it is.”

  We arrived at the area behind the stage just as Declan finished introducing the governor. The governor had arrived early—much to our irritation—but we had used it to our advantage. We’d instructed Declan to allow him to speak to guests earlier than planned.

  People cheered when Truman stepped to the mike. From what I’d observed since arriving in the Bluegrass State, most Kentuckians, especially ones like those gathered at tonight’s gala, loved Truman and were hopeful he would make positive changes. But now I knew there were also activists, like the three in front of me, who thought Truman was answering to the corporate rich and doing whatever those with money demanded of him.

  “The hazmat team is en route,” Carlos said in our ears. “They’ll be coming in through one of the back farm entrances then circle around on the far side of the tent to stay as inconspicuous as possible. They’ll await our command.”

  I glanced sideways at Mike. He nodded, confirming he’d heard Carlos loud and clear.

  “Also,” Carlos continued, “we heard from the evidence team.”

  Mike touched his mic. “And?”

  “They found a refrigerator, secured with a padlock, in the back of Jenna’s house. Inside it was what appears to be the tacin taken from O’Roark’s laboratory, along with some other vials that will need to be tested. In addition, they found a small vial in the bottom of a duffel bag at Danny Ramsey’s. That gives us enough to bring them in and charge them, even if nothing else happens tonight.”

  I felt a smile touch my lips, and I saw Jenna look at me curiously. For the first time, a worried tilt to her brows cast shadows over her eyes.

  The governor delivered a shortened version of the speech I’d heard before. He thanked the evening’s host, Declan O’Roark, and praised the event planners for a magnificent show. Then, after a few words about what the Bluegrass Derby meant to the fine people of Kentucky, he announced, “Dinner is served!”

  “Why are we back here?” Jenna finally asked, breaking her silence. “You said you had some questions?” Sweat beaded along her forehead despite the cool evening temperature, and for the first time, I saw visible signs of her nervousness.

  I shrugged. “I just thought we could talk. You know, away from all those partygoers.”

  “You’re not just some stable hand passing through for the Derby, are you?” she asked with a quirk in her brow. “What do you want?”

  “Oh,” I said. “You must not have heard.” I pulled my badge out of my pocket. “FBI Special Agent Brooke Fairfax.”

  She stared blankly at me. I had to give it to her. She had perfected the poker face.

  “These gentlemen,” I gestured to Mike and the other agents who had accompanied us, “are also special agents. They have some questions for the three of you. I have some, too, but I’ve been looking forward to the aerial silk artists all night.”

  Danny and Ben looked to Jenna. Danny squeezed his fingers into fists. I knew the agents were ready to take them down if they even looked like they might run or fight.

  “Your point?” Jenna asked, her lip quivering slightly.

  “Well, there’s a huge crowd out there, and back here, we can get a front row seat for the show. I watched them rehearse earlier, and found them to be simply amazing, but that was in broad daylight. I’ve heard, now that it’s getting darker, that the show is much more amazing with the special lighting and the fog.”

  “We don’t have to stay for this shit,” Danny said. “I don’t care about some stupid show.” He turned to go, and in two seconds flat, an agent introduced Danny to the ground with his arms restrained behind his back.

  Ben flinched, and he, too, was quickly restrained, but left standing.

  “While you’re at it,” Mike said, “go ahead and put them all in handcuffs, because all three of you are under arrest.”

  “On what charges?” Jenna asked calmly as she was placed in cuffs.

  “Oh, the list is long,” Mike continued, “but we can start with murder, attempted murder, terroristic threatening, and burglary.”

  “You don’t have proof that we did any of that.” Somehow, Jenna remained calm despite it all.

  “Oh, look.” I pointed behi
nd her. “The silk artists are getting ready.” I leaned in toward Mike like an excited kid. “Can we stay and watch before we take them in? What will ten minutes matter to three people about to spend the rest of their lives in prison? As soon as the show’s over, we’ll get them booked and into interrogation.”

  A whimper escaped Danny’s mouth from his spot on the ground where an agent had him immobile.

  “I suppose,” Mike said. “I can’t imagine these three would argue about having ten additional minutes of freedom.”

  “Exactly.” I leaned my head back and sucked in a deep breath through my nose. “Just breathe that fresh air.”

  The agents lifted Danny and turned the men and Jenna to face the stage, where the entertainment was getting set up. Two men dressed in all black stood on either side of the stage. One of them conferred with the silk artists.

  When the artists began stretching and preparing to take the stage, the two men approached the fog machines. At the sound of the low hum, I knew they had turned them on to start the process of heating the liquid inside.

  “Mom, please,” Ben said beside Jenna. Sweat streamed down the side of his face.

  “Dammit,” Jenna said under her breath. “Tell those men to turn the machines off.”

  “Shh. They’re about to start.” I waved her away and pretended not to hear her.

  Declan took the stage and stood in front of the microphone. “Good evening, again,” he said. “I’ve been told that we’ve had another change in the schedule. I’m nothing if not flexible.” The audience laughed. “For your entertainment during dinner tonight, we have a wonderful group of aerial silk artists here to perform.” Declan introduced the group, and after much applause, the artists skipped up the back stairs and took the stage.

  Fog had begun to swirl out over the stage, low to the ground. The artists took their positions and began wrapping themselves around lengths of fabric that hung from a box truss system above the stage. Gracefully, they climbed into the air.